


Candlelight

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-26
Updated: 2006-03-26
Packaged: 2018-12-27 12:46:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12081345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Set between episodes 405 & 406. A storm knocks out the power and Brian and Justin are left to find a way to entertain themselves for the evening. Will it be ridiculously romantic, or will stormy weather invade the loft as well? NOTE: This story includes something of a spoiler for the novel, The Front Runner by Patricia Nell Warren.





	Candlelight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Justin stood at the window and watched the deluge of fat round raindrops splatter against the glass. A flash of lighting lit the sky and he counted off the seconds in his head until the thunder boomed. Only five. “The storm’s getting closer,” he said over his shoulder as he heard Brian open the fridge door. “Why don’t we just stay in tonight?”

“Aren’t you going out patrolling again with the other half of the Gay Avengers?” Brian shut the fridge and opened the bottle of water in his hand. “Or can’t you find any heteros to pick a fight with in the rain?”

“I won’t be going out with Cody on any more patrols. I’m going back to letting Rage fight my battles. Letting my art be my weapon.”

Brian ran his tongue along the corner of his mouth and raised an eyebrow. “What happened to making the streets safe for Pittsburgh’s fags?” 

Justin cleared his throat and turned to face Brian, arms crossed over his chest. “You were right. Cody’s dangerous. And his anger is going to end up getting him killed. I’m not saying he’s wrong, I still believe we have to stand up for ourselves, not let our fear keep us immobilized, but I had to find the middle ground.” He ran a hand through his recently cropped hair. “I guess I’m not willing to die for the cause.”

Another flash of lighting flashed. _‘One, two, three,’_ Justin counted in his head while Brian put the water bottle on the counter and walked over, reaching for him as the thunder rumbled. 

“I’m glad,” Brian whispered in his ear. 

“Thank you,” Justin said, taking Brian’s face between his hands and giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

“For what?”

“For letting me make my own decisions…and my own mistakes. It means a lot to me that as much as you hated what I was doing, you didn’t stop me.”

“Well, it’s your life.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” Justin asked, as if the thought had never before occurred to him.

“And you should have the same opportunity to fuck it up as everyone else has.”

Justin laughed and shoved Brian away. “So what do you say?” he asked, walking over to the plush floor cushions in front of the TV. “How about we just stay in tonight, watch a movie…get stoned…fuck our brains out?”

“Not a bad way to spend a rainy evening…I suppose I could give up Babylon for one night.” Brian followed Justin over to the pillows and sat down. He pushed Justin onto his back, then rolled on top of him, stretching out and propping on his elbows. “But how about we reverse the order?”

“You want to get stoned first?” 

Brian showered little kisses down the side of Justin’s face, punctuating each word with a kiss. “I want to fuck you.”

As they began to undress another bolt of lighting split the sky. The following rumble of thunder was loud enough to rattle the loft windows. A second later the power flickered and went out, plunging several square blocks into total blackness. 

“Shit!” Brian exclaimed as Justin’s elbow caught him in the ribs. 

“Give me your lighter.”

“What?”

“We obviously can’t do this in the dark without risking serious injury…so give me your lighter and I’ll light some candles,” Justin said in an oddly careful voice.

Brian made a surly noise, bordering on a snort, but he managed to dig around in his jeans pocket and hand over the silver lighter Justin requested without incident. 

Sporadic bursts of lighting illuminated the room for brief seconds at a time as Justin stumbled around the loft. He collected three white pillar candles and put them all on the same silver tray, lit them and carried them back over to the coffee table behind the cushions. Then he sat back down beside Brian and handed back the lighter. 

“Candles? Wouldn’t a flashlight be more practical?” 

“Mm, absolutely…but I checked and there were no batteries in the flashlight.”

“Oh, yeah. We used them in the Turgid-Turbo-Titillation…with multi-speed vibration and adjustable-tension nipple clamping action,” Brian smiled.

“I forgot about that.” Justin raised his eyebrows. “I can’t believe I ever actually let you use that hellish contraption on me.”

“You loved it.”

Justin sighed. “It’s true. I did.”

“Now, where were we?” Brian asked, leaning close to plant small kisses along the side of Justin’s neck. 

“Wait. Stop.” Justin put his hands flat on Brian’s bare chest and pushed gently. “Let’s wait ‘till the power comes back on.”

“Why?”

Justin starred into the flickering candle flames, absently rubbing at the goose pimpled flesh of his arms. “I know it’s stupid, but the darkness is freaking me out a little. It’s so quiet, so…still. It reminds me of when I first came out of the coma. The pressure from the brain swelling caused some auditory and vision problems for a few days. I would fall asleep, or rather, I was knocked out with drugs, and I’d wake up in the middle of the night…not able to see or hear anything. That’s when the nightmares started, even before I was told what had happened…I woke up screaming, but I couldn’t hear myself.”

Brian closed his eyes against the memory of seeing Justin in pain. He didn’t want to think about all those nights in the hospital- at first when he feared the worst, then when Justin regained consciousness, having to watch him struggle…even in sleep. Yes, Brian knew all about the nightmares, he’d even had a few of his own during those long weeks. He turned his head away at the same time he reached over to rub Justin’s tense back. 

“I saw him.” Justin looked in Brian’s direction. “Chris Hobbs. I saw him two nights ago.”

Brian’s head whipped around, his eyes meeting Justin’s, shock and anger deepening the hazel orbs to nearly green. 

“Cody found out where he works, where he lives. He made me confront him. Wanted me to stand up to him.” 

“Well?” Brian prompted in a deliberately emotionless voice when Justin fell silent.

“We were waiting for him when he got home. I had him down on his knees, Cody’s gun in his mouth. I made him say he was sorry for what he did to me. He was crying, pleading…I wanted to pull the trigger and Cody was urging me on, yelling at me to do it. I looked in Hobb’s eyes and…I couldn’t. I realized I wasn’t afraid of him anymore, he looked so pathetic, so _small_ on his knees in front of me. I knew I couldn’t go on hating him either, not unless I wanted to become as fucked up as Cody. So…” Justin closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Brian. “ I told him to go inside. I gave Cody his gun back and I walked away.” Justin rubbed the back of his neck. “ I could have done it, I could have pulled the trigger, but I didn’t. _I decided._ I was in control for the first time in…a fucking long time. It felt good.” 

Brian let out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding. He sucked his lips inward, keeping his eyes locked on Justin’s. “I guess the past has finally been laid to rest.”

“I thought so. Then the power went out and I thought I was going to have a fucking panic attack.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. But it’ll always be there. Every time my hand cramps, or I get a headache, or the power goes out, or I have to walk through a fucking parking garage alone…I’ll always be reminded.” Justin rolled his head back and forth on his shoulders and then smiled at Brian. “But that’s okay. I’ll never be free of it, I can’t be, it’s a part of who I am, but I’ve finally made my peace with it.”

“Sunshine’s all grown up now.” 

“Guess so.” Justin slid down, resting his head on a couple of pillows, seemingly mesmerized once again by the glow of the candles. 

Brian shifted to mimic Justin’s posture and something sharp poked him in the thigh. “What the fuck?” he muttered as he dug the offending object out from underneath him. “The Front Runner.” 

Justin glanced over at the book Brian was holding. “Oh, sorry,” he said, reaching for it. “I was reading this earlier.”

“Why?”

“It’s heralded as the most celebrated gay love story of all time.” Justin turned the book to the light and read from the jacket.

“That’s enough reason to avoid it…not to mention it’s fucking depressing.”

“You’ve read it?”

“Yeah, years ago. In college. It was on the list of required gay reading 101…didn’t you get the list when you came out?”

“Ha ha. Seriously, doesn’t it strike you as enormously relevant, even today?”

“Hmm, some old guy has the hots for a young stud on his track team…nope, can’t relate, sorry.”

“First of all Harlan is not old…he’s hot. And he and Billy risk everything to be together…their careers, Billy’s shot at the Olympics, fuck, even their very lives…just to be together.”

“Haven’t finished it yet have you?”

“I already know what happens.”

“Yeah? Well just look at what all that sacrifice got them…and if you know what happens, why are you reading it?”

“It’s a classic.”

Brian laughed.

“Brian, would you have carried a torch for me if I’d died in the bashing?”

“Would you, if something happened to me?” Brian countered without answering the question.

“Yes. For the rest of my life.”

“That’s bullshit,” Brian said turning his head to look at Justin. “And exactly why you should never depend on another person for you happiness.” 

“I might not mourn forever, but…” Justin stopped and rubbed his hands over his face before saying, “I can’t think about it. I can’t think about losing you.”

“Well, you should get used to it. No one lives forever; nothing lasts forever. You know first hand how fragile and tenuous this thing called life can be.”

“I’m younger than Billy…and I’ve already survived one near death experience…doesn’t bode well for my future, huh? Maybe I’m destined to die young.” Justin grinned when he said it, but the underlying fear was real.

“Don’t worry, drama queens live well into old age,” Brian assured him with a pat on the leg.

“I’m serious. Maybe my days are numbered. Maybe fate threw us together so you could begin to experience love…without the long-term commitment. Then, after I’m gone you’ll realize you were wrong all those years, that love isn’t the destructive force you thought it was. You’ll mourn me and move on. And eventually you’ll meet someone else. He’ll turn your world upside down…and you’ll love it. You’ll be ready to give him all of yourself, you’ll have a _real relationship._ ” 

“How very movie of the week.” Brian said, rolling his eyes. He ran his hand over Justin’s shaved head and then gave the younger man’s ear a hard thump.

“Ow.” Justin pushed Brian’s hand away and rubbed the back of his ear.

“You’re not going to die prematurely. Your ‘destiny,’ if there is such a thing, is to become a renowned…and very rich, artist. If you go back to school, that is.” 

“Don’t start. And besides, you don’t know that. You just said no one lives forever and that life is fragile.”

“’You get what anyone gets; you get a lifetime.’” 

“You’re quoting a comic book to me?”

“You recognize that?”

“I’ve spent the better part of two years practically living in Michael’s store, yeah I’ve read _Sandman_. Neil Gaiman’s a fucking genius.” 

“Geek.”

“Hey, you’re the one spouting Death’s sage words…all the comics I read are for research.”

“The point is,” Brian stressed the word _point,_ “is just make the most of every day you do have and don’t dwell on the inevitable.”

Justin couldn’t hold back a smirk. “You sound like Ben. Live in the now, not the past or the future.”

“Zen Ben’s on to something there, it sure beats the hell out of being all maudlin and mopey. Why are we talking about this anyway?”

“I just wanted to know if you’d miss me if I suddenly and unexpectedly departed this mortal coil.”

“Of course I would, you stupid twat,” Brian said in an angry and unexpected outburst. He cleared his throat and continued in a softer tone, “Just like when you were bashed and I didn’t know if you’d ever wake up. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yes… _no_. No,” Justin repeated. “I don’t like thinking about you hurting. That’s what I’m most afraid of..not afraid of dying…but leaving behind the people I love. Or being left behind.” 

“We all die alone, no exceptions.” Brian shook his head as he spoke. 

“Do you have to be so fucking pragmatic?” Justin asked, pulling away from Brian and sitting up. 

“Aw, I’ll bet what’s-his-name told you he’d die without you, or better yet, die for you. Did the two of you lie in bed at night, planning your old-age suicide pact?” Brian sat up as he spoke.

“Why are you bringing _Ethan_ up?” Justin stressed the name. “You only throw him in my face when you’re pissed…so why are you pissed at me?”

“I’m fucking sick of this conversation.” Brian reached into his pocket for his lighter and little silver dug out. “I think it’s time to get stoned.” He packed the end of the cylinder and lit it up, taking a deep drag of smoke into his lungs.

Justin took a hit and settled back into the pillows, determined not to speak unless spoken to. 

After ten minutes of silence and three more hits, Brian picked up one of the candles and ran his right hand back and forth a few inches above the flame. “It wasn’t supposed to happen,” he whispered under his breath.

“Huh?” Justin asked, startled out of his inner contemplation of the universe and his place in it.

Brian dipped his hand closer to the flame, making quick passes again and again until the tips of his fingers passed through the flame. He looked at his hand. The flesh was pink, the nerve endings stinging some, but otherwise unharmed. He curled his fingers into a fist and looked over his shoulder at Justin. “ _You_ weren’t supposed to happen,” he said clearly and definitively. Then he got up and carried the candle with him into the kitchen, grabbing the first bottle of alcohol he came to. He set the candle on the counter, its yellow-orange flame flickering, and opened the vodka, taking a long swallow straight from the bottle. 

Justin reached for his discarded t-shirt and pulled it over his head, not caring if it was right side or inside out. A sudden chill had fallen over the room.

“You were just a fuck. I knew it, you knew it. Christ, I couldn’t have made it any clearer to you…but you just wouldn’t go away.” Brian took another swig of the vodka.

“And I’m still here,” Justin said, watching Brian closely. He knew, had always known that was how Brian felt, but hearing it out loud always hurt more than he expected it to. 

Brian left the candle and walked back over. He sat down beside Justin, his eyes trained on the younger man’s face. He raised the vodka bottle in mock salute and said, “And you’re still here.” Then he took another drink.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be,” Justin said tightly. “I think I’ll leave before you say something I really don’t want to hear.” He stood up and willed the slight dizziness from the pot to go away. He knew it was going to be hard enough to get back to Daph’s in the dark, the last thing he needed was a foggy head.

“Stop being so melodramatic and sit you ass back down,” Brian said, reaching out and taking hold of Justin’s wrist, pulling him back onto the floor. “I want you to stay.” 

Justin looked at Brian warily. 

“I’m…glad you’re still here.” He let go of Justin’s arm and sat back, picking at the label on the vodka bottle. “I never wanted to…” Brian raised his eyebrows as he stumbled over the word, “ _care_ about you, about anyone.”

“I know…all too well,” Justin said, the hurt he was trying to hold back seeping into his voice.

“No, you don’t.” Brian downed another mouthful of the peppery vodka. “You think you do, but you have no idea…” The words trailed off and he looked at Justin. Something shimmery and dark filled his eyes. Something Justin realized with surprise was a mixture of anger and pain. “I was worried about you,” Brian said softly. “Every night you went out the past few weeks I wondered if you’d come back with new bruises, a broken bone or two, maybe you’d end up in the hospital…or maybe not come back at all.” He exhaled heavily and swirled the remaining vodka around in the bottle. “I never wanted that…this…any of it. But here you are, and here I am,” he said, his words becoming increasingly slurred. 

Justin bit his lip and leaned over to take the vodka bottle from Brian. He took a healthy swig before placing it on the coffee table, out of immediate reach. Then he slid over and kissed Brian on the mouth. “I’m sorry I made you worry. I promise not to do anything that stupid again.”

“You can’t promise that; being young and stupid go hand in hand…besides, it isn’t about _you._ ” Brian shook his head, pulling a pained face. “It’s about me…giving a shit. How about that? Brian Kinney gives a shit!” He laughed. “You said that to me once, remember? _Brian Kinney gives a shit._ I wanted to tell you to fuck off…but I also wanted to fuck you.” Brian shot Justin a smoldering look. “But then, I always do. I can get hard just looking at you.” He took Justin’s hand and moved it down to cup the proof of his raging boner. 

Justin stroked Brian through the soft denim of his jeans and buried his face in the crook of Brian’s neck to hide his smile. He had known for a long while now that Brian Kinney gave a shit, and as far as declarations went, it wasn’t ‘I love you’ by a long shot, but it was a big admission for Brian. _Too bad he won’t remember it in the morning,_ Justin thought, then changed his mind, thinking it was probably better if Brian didn’t remember. 

Brian pulled Justin’s head up and found the younger man’s lips with his own. He deepened the kiss, coaxing Justin’s tongue into play.

The power came back on; little noises usually taken for granted suddenly sounded shockingly loud- the hum of the refrigerator, the whir of the DVD player, the alarm resetting. 

Justin sat up and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. The rain had receded to a light drizzle and the thunder was now a vague rumble in the distance. 

“Do you think it’s safe to say the storm has passed?” Justin asked.

Brian looked up at Justin, passion, not anger, darkening his eyes. “Yeah, the storm is definitely over.” 

He reached for Justin, but Justin pulled away and stood up. Brian let his hand fall back by his side and arched one brow. 

Justin smiled. Then he went around the loft and turned off all the lights, leaving just the flickering candles to illuminate the room. He went back to the floor pillows and sank to his knees beside Brian.

“I’m glad I didn’t let you get rid of me so easily. I’m glad I’m still here too,” Justin said before leaning down and unfastening Brian’s jeans. 

Brian ran his fingers over Justin’s bristle-like, yet baby soft, hair as Justin’s lips encircled the head of his cock. Silently, he agreed.


End file.
